


Myth of Happiness

by whereJIJisalive



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Future Fic, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whereJIJisalive/pseuds/whereJIJisalive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Kurtofsky gift exchange 2013 for this prompt: Takes place sometime in the future - Kurt auditions for an underground, indie play in New York only to find out the writer and director is David.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Myth of Happiness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OurEchoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OurEchoes/gifts).



His predictions had been correct. After leaving NYADA the previous year he had auditioned for countless broadway and off-broadway productions, getting a few chorus gigs here and there but never anything substantial. They wouldn’t cast him because he was too flamboyant. Couldn’t play straight roles. Apparently. He wanted so badly to prove them wrong, but he couldn’t do that if they wouldn’t give him a chance. It was eerily reminiscent of his high school days.

When the café he’d been working at laid him off, he finally ventured into the land of underground productions. Ever since Rachel had had a few bad experiences with such productions, he had been extremely wary of them. But he reckoned he had to work his way to the top, maybe get a few good reviews and the snobbish types on broadway would give him a shot at playing Tony or Raoul or Christian, some male lead that would give him credibility in the musical theater world. So he was on his way downtown, to a little hole-in-the-wall theater to audition for a lead role in an unknown musical. Ideally he would have had Rachel or Adam, who had become a good friend, with him, but they were both busy.

He entered the auditorium with a lot more confidence than he actually felt, and if he’d had a cape right then it would have flapped dramatically behind him as he turned the corner. Sadly, he didn’t. Or perhaps luckily, seeing as that would have been fashion suicide.

He sat down in one of the middle rows of chairs, leaving a chair empty between him and the row of excited, quietly talking hopefuls. After checking his watch again – it had become a nervous habit – his attention was drawn to the stage by the sound of billowing fabric shifting against itself. It was one of Kurt’s favorite sounds in the world, and even if the sight wasn’t quite as tremendous as the one at NYADA, the sound was still the same.

He watched the stage, waiting for someone to fill the space in the middle, and when somebody did, he was gobsmacked. He didn’t even need to hear him speak – he recognized the man immediately.

“Hello, everyone!” Dave Karofsky said to the small crowd, clapping his hands together once to bring the attention of the few who were still chattering. “My name is David Karofsky, but as soon as you’re cast you can call me Dave,” he smiled.

Kurt realized that he was trying to make a joke. In the midst of all Kurt’s own confusion, though, it was even less funny than it would have been otherwise. Dave was in New York. Dave was working for a theater company. Dave was…

“I’m going to be the director for this production. I also wrote it,” he said, looking around the room. He didn’t appear to have spotted Kurt yet. “As you know we’re going to be holding the auditions for the acting and singing roles today, but if you’re here for a stagehand job you can go see Jerry backstage, he’ll take your applications and ask you a few questions.”

How could Kurt not have known that Dave was the writer?

A handful of the people in the chairs grabbed their bags and went of to find the guy Dave had mentioned. Kurt was suddenly feeling very lonely at his end of the room. If Dave was going to recognize him at all, it would be very soon now.

Kurt had barely had time to think that thought when Dave, who had been looking like he was about to say something else, suddenly shut his mouth so quickly Kurt could hear his teeth slamming together. Ouch. Kurt was afraid to look up towards his former classmate’s eyes, wondering what he’d find there, but when he finally did, he was pleasantly surprised. Dave’s eyes were smiling, even if his face hadn’t quite caught up. Kurt gave him a slight wave, and waited for him to continue.

***

INT. SCHOOL CORRIDOR – RECESS

The sound of teenagers shouting and talking fills the corridor and we see PETER, 18 and DANNY, 18, walk through it. Danny is wearing a red beret that says “bully whips”. Peter is wearing stylish clothing and carrying a messenger bag over his shoulder. A somewhat tense silence settles between them.

PETER  
So… How are you doing?

DANNY  
Okay.

They arrive at Peter’s classroom and turn to each other.

DANNY  
Here we are, third period. French class. I’m going to calculus, so wait inside the classroom after the bell rings and I’ll be back here to walk you to lunch.

PETER  
Have you noticed that no one has said boo to me this week?

DANNY  
That’s because the bully wips are protecting you.

PETER  
Maybe. But, maybe no one has been harassing me this week because nobody cares?

DANNY  
You’re dreaming.

PETER  
Look, I’m not saying that everyone in this school’s ready to “embrace the gay” but maybe at least they’ve evolved enough to be indifferent. I see how miserable you are, Danny. I could just hate you when you were bullying me, but all I can see now is your pain. And you don’t have to torture yourself over this. I’m not saying you should come out tomorrow, but, maybe soon the moment will arise when you can.

The bell rings, and Danny is close to tears.

PETER  
What’s wrong?

DANNY  
I’m… I’m so freaking sorry, Peter. I’m just, so sorry for what I did to you.

PETER  
I know. I know.

DANNY  
Yeah. Cool. Thanks. Just, remember. Wait for me here, alright?

***

If there was something Dave had never expected to be doing, it was directing his own musical in New York. He had started writing it in college for an assignment and ended up handing in something else before he continued working on it.

He’d gone to college in Columbus, together with a native of New York who had ended up owning his own little theater there thanks to an inheritance from an elderly great-aunt. A couple years after college that guy had called him up and asked how his script was coming along. As if by magic, there they were, setting up open auditions.

Dave hadn’t meant to write a variation of his own high school history, but before he knew it that was happening. It wasn’t the exact same, seeing as the songs conveyed a lot of things that Dave had never told anybody. He had also left out the suicide attempt. No matter how much time he put between himself and that wretched day it was still there in the back of his mind, grating on his conscience. Sometimes he had to stand in front of the mirror in the morning and practice smiling. To fool himself that he was happy. Thankfully, though, he had settled into himself by now, and he was actually happy more than he had to pretend that he was. He wouldn’t have been able to put this musical out in the open if he wasn’t comfortable with who he was.

Perhaps even more surprising than his musical, was that none other than Kurt Hummel had shown up to audition for it. As he awkwardly asked Kurt to take the stage, he wondered whether he had known it was Dave’s musical. He must have, right? Did that mean he wanted to see him? Pick up on a friendship that had never truly been allowed to start? Dave was surprised by himself while watching Kurt audition.

After the direct aftermath of his suicide attempt, he had never been too keen on staying in touch with Kurt. He supposed he had still felt guilty on some plane. In some ways he had also been afraid of himself around Kurt. Kurt could make him do brilliant things, but he could also take him to his worst extremes. After everything that had happened with his family, he hadn’t thought he’d be able to handle that.

But now there was no shadow behind him seeing Kurt. It felt good. He longed to speak to him properly once his audition was over. He felt hopeful.

**

Kurt smiled after he finished his audition, the lines and the song having resonated oddly with him. After finding out Dave was the writer of the musical, he had gotten a sneaking suspicion that it had been written with Dave’s personal history in mind.

He walked down the steps to the first row of chairs where Dave was seated. Had been seated. He was now on his feet looking excited, and perhaps a little nervous. Kurt really got it. He was nervous too, seeing Dave. But he also knew that a friendly reunion between them was long overdue.

“Hi! I’m so happy to see you!” he exclaimed and bounced a little on his feet. After a moment’s hesitation he took the last few steps towards Dave and gave him a tentative hug. It took the other man a second to respond, but once he did, his embrace exceeded Kurt’s in enthusiasm.

“Really?” Dave said after they’d let go and Kurt had taken a step back.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve been meaning to give you a call for years,” Kurt replied and smiled. He was grateful Dave had given the three remaining hopefuls a ten minute break.

“Me too. You look great.” He paused. “I mean, you were great up there. Just- perfect.”

Kurt blushed. “Thanks. So, I didn’t even know this was your musical! How come you’ve written one?”

“Oh, um, it’s kind of embarrassing, I guess,” Dave said and started fidgeting slightly.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” Kurt reassured. He raised his eyebrow, silently prompting Dave to tell him.

“I started writing it in college. For an assignment at first, but then it just got out of hand. I started thinking a lot about high school, and you, and everything that happened. You know?”

Kurt nodded, understanding.

“I still feel guilty,” Dave said suddenly, looking down.

“And I still feel guilty for not taking those calls. Remember? So we’re even.”

Dave smiled, and shook his head quietly, but dropped that particular subject. “Anyway, I guess writing was sort of my way of working things through. Finally.”

“Wow. Well, what I’ve read so far has been amazing. I can’t wait to see it all when it comes together, whether I’m in it or not,” Kurt said and winked at Dave, hoping he’d get the hint. Kurt would absolutely love to be in this musical and see Dave every day.

Dave blushed as he answered. “I think it’s safe to say you’ll get the part,” he said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, obviously it was written for you.” Dave was blushing even harder, and to Kurt’s surprise, the word he would use to describe the other man was adorable.

“Good,” Kurt said simply, and pulled Dave into another quick hug. As he did so he deftly fished Dave’s phone out of his jeans pocket and turned around quickly so Dave wouldn’t see. He quickly programmed his number into the cell, before turning back to Dave. “Think fast!” he exclaimed, and threw the phone to Dave at a wide angle, so he was sure the former jock would be able to catch it.

“What did you-? How-?” Dave asked, confused.

“Call me!” Kurt threw over his shoulder as he walked out of there, a wide smile on his face.

**

Jaron and Roscoe took one look at Dave’s room in the apartment they shared, before looking at each other and nodding. They were always on the same page. Roscoe went over to the window, pulling apart the curtains and opening it as wide as it would go, letting in a cold breeze of air.

Jaron went over to the bed, dragging away the covers from the still-sleeping form of their flatmate. When Dave still didn’t stir, Roscoe made a decision. He ran into the kitchen, filling a glass with ice cold water and walked back into Dave’s bedroom. Without so much as a second thought, he emptied the glass over Dave’s head.

Dave shot up immediately. “What the fuck are you doing?!” he exclaimed.

Roscoe was preparing himself to throw some well thought-out profanities at his flatmate, but Jaron held him back.

“The fuck you think we’re doing?” Jaron asked calmly. “You’ve been in that bed for two days. Two days. All because that little princess didn’t call you back.”

“Fuck off, Jaron,” Dave said and tried to snatch back the covers out of Jaron’s hands. But he was too slow.

“Let me tell you something, Dave,” Roscoe began. “If that idiot didn’t call you back then he’s not good enough for you.”

“And he’s certainly not anything for you get depressed over,” Jaron added.

“Honey,” Roscoe continued. “Get the fuck out of bed. Right now.”

Dave wiped his wet face on his pillow and stared at them incredulously. “Why?”

“Cause we’re going clubbing, that’s why.”

**

Adam Crawford was pleased with himself. After a bit of convincing, he had finally managed to drag Kurt out of the sofa and into a pair of his tightest skinny jeans. When asked what to do to cheer Kurt up, Rachel hadn’t really agreed that clubbing was the best idea, but Adam stood his ground.

When he was down, a good drink and grind against his best, hottest friend usually went some ways to help. And anyway, he wouldn’t have gotten Kurt to agree if he didn’t really want to go. Kurt was strong-willed.

When they arrived at the club, though, and Kurt headed straight for the bar, Adam was starting to doubt himself. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. He sighed and forced himself into a saucy smile. He’d just have to make the best of it. Maybe he could at least help take Kurt’s mind off what had happened.

**

Thirty minutes later Dave was entering the same club, flanked by his best friends and roommates, Jaron and Roscoe. He could seriously have killed them waking him up like that that afternoon. He swore they were the most annoying couple he’d ever had the displeasure to be around. He constantly asked himself why he was living with them, but grudgingly admitted that they were good for his self-respect.

He hadn’t been able to figure out why Kurt had never taken his calls. It just seemed so weird and out of character for the other man. Or, well, Kurt had done it before. It had given Dave a serious sense of déjà vu. But Kurt had said that he felt guilty for that, so it just didn’t fit. But he was glad to be taken out by the wonder couple, he was. He’d get a hold of Kurt sooner or later, and until then, it really didn’t befit him to be wallowing in bed, feeling hurt and somehow guilty.

When he then saw the object of his insecurities grinding against some blonde on the dance floor, his eyes nearly budged out of his head. Kurt was wearing the skinniest jeans known to man, coupled with a purple and black, sheer tank top. He was absolutely gorgeous, and Dave could feel attraction stirring within him, as well as memories – so many – of the same feeling towards Kurt. He felt about as insecure, ugly and stupid as he had whenever he had seen or talked to Kurt in high school.

He decided to ignore Kurt for the time being and hope that he’d be the one who spotted him. Unfortunately for him, Roscoe had already noticed how he was staring at Kurt.

“He’s hot,” Roscoe commented, and Dave simultaneously smiled and cringed. He smiled because Roscoe was like Kurt in all ways but his fashion sense and his voice. Roscoe wore all black, pretty much always, not like how Kurt dressed at all. And his voice was a lot deeper, plus he couldn’t sing worth a damn. But otherwise they were really similar. Which was why Dave had been drawn to him when they’d met at a party a couple years previous. He had cringed because that meant he’d noticed. And Roscoe wasn’t one to let things go easily.

“You should go steal him away from that blonde,” Roscoe said, nudging him in the side.

Dave shook his head frantically. “No, thanks.”

“Why not? You’re not usually afraid to go after what you want. And he’s obviously the epitome of your type.”

Dave sighed. “I know. That’s the point. He is my type. He’s where my type comes from, he’s the original.”

It took his friend a few seconds to catch on, but when he did, his face lit up like a christmas tree. “That’s Kurt? Oh honey, that’s even better.”

“What? No? Why would it be better? It’s worse, it’s so much worse. I can’t talk to him now! He hasn’t answered my calls for a week.”

“Then obviously this is your chance to fix that,” Roscoe winked at him, before spinning around to grab Jaron around the waist and lead him out on the dance floor.

“Fuck me,” Dave whispered under his breath.

“Be happy to, babe,” came a voice from behind him before a tall, dark-skinned and incredibly attractive thirty-something walked by him, a challenge in his eyes.

Any other day Dave probably would have taken that challenge, but as it was now, all he wanted was a drink.

**

Only five minutes later, when Dave was uncomfortably seated on one of the bar stools nursing a whiskey, Kurt came up next to him and noticed him with wide eyes.

“Dave! Oh, hi!” He exclaimed, draping his arm over Dave’s shoulder as he waved with the other to catch the attention of the bartender. Dave could see that Kurt was different, and a lot more relaxed in his body language than he had been the last time they’d met. He couldn’t help but wonder how much exactly he’d already had to drink.

“Hi, Kurt,” he said, feeling overwhelmed.

Kurt didn’t say anything, not until he was ordering a martini for himself, and “another one of what he’s having” for Dave.

“Um, Kurt?” Dave asked, turning slightly towards Kurt, which placed their faces very close together. Dave fought the urge to close his eyes to be able to concentrate better.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I’m fine!” Kurt smiled, and it seemed genuine. “Really, I’m fine.” Their drinks arrived, and Kurt took a few sips before downing the rest in one. “Dance with me.”

Dave swallowed, suddenly nervous. He wasn’t a good dancer. He was sure he’d fuck it up. “I don’t know, Kurt…”

“You don’t want to?” Kurt asked skeptically, before a grain of insecurity snuck into his expression. Dave realized that it was basically now or never. Time to man up. “Of course I do,” he said. He swallowed his whiskey, and ignoring the burn in his throat he took the hand Kurt had offered and followed him out onto the dance floor.

They danced to the beat of a mix of Lady Gaga and Kanye West, something that was decidedly not Dave’s style. However, that was the last thing on his mind because Kurt’s smokey eyes stared intensely into his as they danced, close together. He felt the curve of Kurt’s ass as his hand was guided towards it. Tentatively he used it to pull Kurt even closer, putting his other hand on the back of Kurt’s neck.

Meanwhile, Kurt’s hands were wandering all over his sculpted chest before landing on the almost non-existent inward curve of his waist. Kurt, on the other hand, had a very prominent waist, despite the muscles Dave could feel underneath that tank, and it was a huge turn-on for Dave. He was glad he had decided to stop overanalyzing everything. Now he could just enjoy it.

**

“You want to get out of here?” Kurt suddenly said into his ear and started leading him towards the exit.

“I could walk you home,” Dave said. Kurt pouted before he seemed to relax. Dave had no intention of taking advantage of the other man, and if something was going to happen between them then he’d have to be sure that that’s what Kurt also wanted.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” The same blonde guy came up next to Kurt, casting suspicious glances at Dave. At the same time Dave was doing the same(and pointedly ignoring his hot English accent).

“Dave and I are going home,” Kurt said in an almost petulant tone.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea right now? I thought we were just going to dance?”

Dave was feeling the tell-tale signs of irritation bubble up in him. What kind of right had this guy to decide what Kurt did or didn’t do? “I’m sorry, but who are you?” he asked.

The blonde just looked affronted. “Who am I? I’m Kurt’s best friend. Who the fuck are you?”

“An old acquaintance,” he said, realizing this guy might not be as bad as he’d thought.

Kurt had been looking back and forth between them for a while, and apparently deciding to put an end to the bickering.

“Adam, this is Dave Karofsky,” he said, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Oh.” Adam said, looking surprised. “Alright. Can I trust you to get him home safely?” he asked, the whole tone of his voice having changed.

Dave decided to take it for what it was. “Of course.”

And so they left, walking hand in hand through New York, with Dave getting the feeling more and more that something wasn’t entirely right.

“Kurt?” He asked once they had been walking for a little while.

“Yeah?”

“Is everything okay?”

Kurt looked sideways at him, a defensive glint in his eyes. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know, it’s just, you seem kind of sad,” he suggested after thinking it over. “And you didn’t answer my calls,” he added sheepishly. He felt annoying, like he was a stone in Kurt’s shoe. One that he just couldn’t get rid of. He knew it was ridiculous, realistically, but that didn’t stop the feeling. He probably should have just let the Adam guy take Kurt home and try to forget all about it. He’d get another lead for the musical. Never mind the fact that all the other candidates were either shit, mediocre, or just not right.

Kurt had been quiet for a few minutes before he spoke again. “I’m sorry, Dave. I’ve been a jerk.”

“What? No.” Dave shook his head and looked at the other man, only to see that he was close to tears. “Hey, it’s fine,” he rushed to reassure, stopping them both in the street. With skilled hands he wiped Kurt’s tears from his cheeks. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Kurt exclaimed, almost startling him. “My dad is in the hospital right now! His cancer is back.”

“Kurt, I’m so sorry.” Suddenly it all made a little more sense.

“It’s not your fault. None of it is.” Kurt looked up at him with fear in his eyes. “I just don’t think I could handle it if he- if he-” He was now sobbing against Dave’s chest.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, feeling absolutely useless. There was nothing he could do to fix this, no matter how much he wanted to. He just kept repeating the platitudes and stroking Kurt’s back until the sobs had receded.

“Thank you,” Kurt whispered, slowly looking up at him. Dave’s hands were still resting against his back.

“It’s nothing I don’t owe you,” Dave answered truthfully.

“You’re just here because you owe me, then?” Kurt’s hands were on his coat lapels, straightening them out and brushing dust off them.

“No,” Dave said, unconsciously shaking his head at the same time. “I care about you. I always have.”

Kurt nodded and kept looking into his eyes, as he slowly and cautiously leaned in to brush his lips against Dave’s softly.

**

When they later entered Kurt’s apartment, kissing frantically and with Kurt nearly ripping his shirt off, Dave suddenly came to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” Kurt asked, still spreading a few kisses across his jaw.

“I can’t do this,” Dave said, though he couldn’t believe his own words. He never thought he’d be saying no to Kurt Hummel. But he didn’t want to take advantage of him either. He distractedly pushed Kurt away to hold him at arms length. “It’s not right,” he tried to convince himself. “With your dad and everything… You should just go to sleep,” he said.

“Don’t you dare tell me what I should or shouldn’t do,” Kurt said fiercely as he kept pulling Dave into his bedroom.

No matter how much Dave wanted to, it didn’t feel right. “Kurt, I’m sorry,” he insisted. “I can’t.” He watched Kurt deflate in front of him. It reminded Dave of a sad puppy, disheveled and with slightly puffy eyes.

“Will you at least stay?” he asked, eyes firmly fixed on the ground.

“Okay.”

Ten minutes later they fell asleep next to each other, Dave’s arms holding Kurt together.

**

The sun filtered through the half-shut blinds in the room, gently waking Kurt up. For a moment he just enjoyed the warmth he found himself ensconced in, until he noticed that the arms he was wrapped up in were not his own, and not familiar. And that he had a blinding headache. He turned so that he was facing the man in his bed and jolted as his memories returned to him. Oh wow. Okay.

But nothing had happened. Except kissing. And that he had embarrassed himself completely. Oh god. As quietly as he could he left the bed, luckily without waking its other occupant. After changing out of his pajamas into a pair of loose-fitting, worn jeans and a t-shirt, he simply stood and stared at Dave.

He couldn’t believe how he had acted the night before. So needy and anxious and… drunk, he added when his headache reminded him. He decided to just go take an aspirin, and hope that it would all go away. But he had to admit, at least to himself, that Dave looked pretty good in his bed. Like he could easily stay.

Shaking that thought out of his head, he went to get that aspirin. When he got back, Dave was beginning to stir. He was still in his undershirt from the night before, and a pair of old sweats that had always been too big for Kurt.

Suddenly he was reminded of something. He didn’t have Dave’s phone number, because he’d been stupid enough not to send it to himself when he’d had a hold of Dave’s phone. After getting Dave’s cell and doing just that, he once again turned to the bed.

“Dave?” Kurt said, wanting the other man to go as soon as possible so he could be mortified in private.

“Good morning,” Dave slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and finally looking over at Kurt. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Fine.” Kurt’s tone was clipped. Even Kurt noticed that. He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting.

“…Okay.”

Kurt knew he should apologize, and he really wanted to, but right now he just felt like he had to be alone. He had to think.

“I should get going then,” Dave said hesitantly, looking at Kurt like he was a deer to be spooked.

“I think that’s probably for the best.”

**

After Dave had left, Kurt’s day consisted of pacing, thinking and pacing even more. And a phone call from his father. It was not as bad as it could have been, Burt had said. He was going to get more chemo. The doctors were optimistic. It hadn’t gone far to soothe Kurt, but he had tried to sound happy for Burt’s sake.

Battling with worries for Burt in his mind, were regrets about David. He had always known, ever since Dave’s very first apology, that he was someone that Kurt could love. But he had had Blaine back then. And when Dave had told him that he loved him he had honestly just been scared. Scared to move away from the safety and familiarity that was his relationship with Blaine. Many times he had regretted that. Because of Dave’s subsequent suicide attempt, but also for his own sake. After his breakup with Blaine he had begun to think that maybe he would have been happier with Dave. Or that he could be.

And now, those thoughts were everywhere. The previous night had just proven all of Kurt’s hypotheses. Dave was really sweet, and kind, and considerate. Kurt found himself longing to get to know him better.

So, at the end of the day, despite Kurt’s perhaps irrational shame and his fears of falling in love, he picked up the phone and dialed the newly acquired number.


End file.
